Danny Phantom: Resurrection
by Catadmin
Summary: With death staring him in the face, how far will an old man go to save the most important person in his life? Halfcanon, halfAU for our favorite halfa.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews on "I'm the Hero", "Deep Blue", and "Do Overs". They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Also, Yes, I am still working on "Do Overs" (4700+ hits!!!). And see my profile for a challenge I posted._

_This piece is intended to be an original concept. I freely admit, however, that it was inspired by the ideas of other authors on this site. Specifically, Alex Schira, WingsOfMorphius, and Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet. If you haven't read their stories, you should. There's a lot of good stuff there. I have no intentions of plagiarizing anything they've written. But if someone thinks I'm getting perilously close to this, please let me know so I can either fix it or pull the story. I don't really have a goal or end point for this tale. Only the first couple of chapters have been written in my head and it's going to be kind of episodic from there. You'll understand why once you get to the second chapter._

_And, No, I'm not telling you who the wife is. You can all guess._

_Lastly, everyone DIES!!! --bwahahahahah-- You believe me, right? Right??? --grin-- _

-------

**_Spectre Detectors, Inc. Headquarters, Amity Park. -_**

They were eating breakfast when the Ecto-Exodus alert went off.

Valerie the ninth-rank black belt dropped her spoon, growling in annoyance. Tucker the technophile looked up from the newspaper, adjusting his glasses with a frown. Sam the goth nearly choked on her double-expresso mocha-latte with soy milk and Danny, seemingly plain Danny, just sighed heavily, laying down his fork and knife.

"You know what that means," Danny said, his deep blue eyes flashing momentarily neon-green.

Even at the table, he was noticeably the tallest of the foursome with a slender frame. At twenty-five, the black haired man had fulfilled the promise of his father's DNA by filling out a bit at the shoulders and topping the six-foot mark, but as tall as he was, he still hadn't gained any significant amount of fat. All his weight was in his muscles and his highly-active metabolism meant he could eat anything and not gain an ounce. It was a crying shame, Sam and Valerie had often commiserated, that they had to diet, exercise and otherwise suffer to get rid of even the slightest hint of cellulite and because of his abilities, he didn't even have to look at a treadmill.

Tucker had gained a few inches himself, in both directions, though the width measurement had more to do with his addiction to Nasty Burgers than bulking up muscle-wise. He still wore his wide-rimmed glasses and the red beret that had become his trademark, but his face has thinned over the years, a feature that had turned him from a strange-looking-geek to a rather handsome ladies' man. The funny thing was, by the time the girls realized this and started chasing him, he was no longer willing to date them. There was only one love of Tucker's life, and he didn't have room for any other.

Sam had matured into a lovely young woman, curves developing in places which had only been awkward angles when she was a teenager. Her black hair had grown out, it was now waist-length, and she had gotten as nearly as tall as Tucker before she stopped growing. Somehow, the goth phase she was supposed to have grown out of, according to her parents, had become her permanent life style. Only now, instead of being "scary goth girl", she looked elegant and mysterious festooned in black opal and hematite jewelry and wearing ankle-length skirts with long-sleeved scoop-collared shirts.

Valerie, on the other hand, had barely gained an inch since high school. Not that anyone wouldn't take the short, dark-skinned woman seriously. When she walked, she moved like a mountain lion on the prowl. She had cut her hair instead of letting it grow out, not wanting anyone to be able to grab her by it in the middle of a fight. She tended to wear more comfortable clothes on a daily basis, preferring to dress in stretch jeans, loose blouses and sneakers. High heels were, in her opinion, suicidal for someone who had to run for her life on a regular basis.

All in all, the foursome didn't appear much different from other twenty-somethings in the world. But if any outsider could see them now, at this moment, they would find appearances could be deceiving. As Danny stood up, a flash of light encircled his waist. It split into two circles, one heading up towards his torso and head, the other heading to his feet. As the circles passed, jeans, sneakers and T-shirt morphed into a black jumpsuit complete with white boots, white gloves, a white belt and a stylized white logo, a "P" within a "D". Danny's skin became a shade darker, almost bluish in tone, his hair turned solid white and his eyes brightened from deep blue to a shimmering emerald green.

"You know, I was hoping for a moment, just one day, of peace," Valerie snarled, hitting a button on a red bracelet she was wearing. A tinny grinding sound could be heard as nano-technology went into activation mode, covering her body with a sleek, red-armor body suit.

"That was your first mistake," Sam chortled as she shucked her skirt, revealing the slate grey jumpsuit she wore underneath, with the top hanging down loose. She pulled the rest of the jumpsuit on over her shirt, adjusting her necklaces to hang down outside of it.

In the meantime, Tucker whipped out his mini-comp which he had built out of parts of an old N-Gauge cell phone. "The disturbance is centered downtown, at the Doom Watch memorial. Wow! I don't think I've seen this many ghosts in… well, since Pariah Dark invaded!"

"Damn," Valerie cursed as Danny's eyes narrowed at the news.

"Is it Pariah?" Danny asked.

Tucker shook his head. "Nope. According to the system, this is a new ghost, completely unidentified. But the power level on this puppy is through the roof."

"Valerie," Danny ordered, "Warm up the Specter Speeder and the jet boards. Tucker, you're on traps. Sam, grab the weapons."

"What are you going to do?" Tucker asked as he pushed away from the table.

"Call the Box Ghost. He might know who this new ghost is. If nothing else, he'll be able to tell me if we should be worried."

Sam, Valerie and Tucker nodded without a shred of resentment for Danny's apparent bossiness. After eleven plus years of fighting ghosts, and five of those years as a team, they didn't really require orders to do what needed to be done. The foursome were a team in the truest sense of the word. While state law required officers - president, vice-president, treasurer and CEO - for the corporation they had set up, amongst themselves they agreed there was no truly designated "in-charge" person. Over time, as each of them got used to each others fighting styles, strengths and weaknesses, the team adopted a "Whoever comes up with the first idea is in charge of the mission" mindset. So, since Danny had given the orders this time, the other three merely assumed he had a plan and did as he asked without complaint.

Precious minutes passed as Valerie enabled the transportation, Sam collected a mass of weapons from tiny to large, and Tucker grabbed not only the Fenton Thermoses for containing the ghosts but various other devices for immobilizing the ghosts. Danny headed to the ghost portal, activating the beacon which would summon his one-time foe and now discrete ally. But as those minutes passed and the Box Ghost did not appear, Danny began to worry. It wasn't like the Box Ghost to miss an opportunity to add more items to his collection, especially when he knew the Spectre Detector team kept a healthy inventory of boxes, bubble wrap, and packing peanuts to pay him with for the information he provided.

And still the Ecto-Exodus alarm was ringing.

------

Danny bit his lip and closed the portal. _Either he's in trouble of his own or he's too scared to come. Either is a bad sign._ He sighed, turning to head back upstairs when his ghost sense went off, an ice-blue mist coming out of his mouth as he felt the temperature dip a few degrees. Combat instinct made him taste the air, searching for the specific tang which would enable him to identify if this was a ghost he had encountered before or one of the unidentified ghostly invaders.

"Daniel, we need to talk."

_Figures._

The ghost who appeared floating in the air was dressed in a white suit with a dramatic black cape, gloves and boots. His black hair was swept up in to two points, a lot like horns, with red eyes and a wicked looking goatee which enhanced his devilish appearance. His skin, like every other ghost in existence except for Danny and his cloned-cousin, was blue. All-in-all, his appearance hadn't changed over the years, which didn't say much. This ghost was still one of the most powerful Danny had ever met.

And the twenty-five year old halfa (half-ghost / half-man) walked past him as if he wasn't even there.

"Did you hear me, Daniel?" Vlad Plasmius, also known as billionaire Vlad Masters in his human form, sounded insistent. Almost desperate. "I said we need to talk."

If Danny had learned one thing in the past decade, it was how to deal with the man who lusted after his mother, hated his father and wanted him as an apprentice. Vlad was a devious, nasty and self-admittedly evil halfa who had stolen, bribed and killed his way to his fortune while trying to manipulate Danny into becoming his son. After a horribly traumatic adolescence, learning how to use his ghost powers, saving Amity Park – and the world – more times than he could count and having to deal with Vlad's mind games, Danny had one day woken with the notion that if he could just find a way to ignore Vlad, that maybe the other halfa would go away.

Well, the "going away" part of the plan obviously hadn't worked, but the "ignoring" part had done wonders. When Vlad would appear with a new scheme, Danny and his three friends found subtle ways to defeat him without a direct confrontation. Actually, Val, Sam and Tucker had done most of the creative thinking that first year. Danny had spent too much time learning to control his temper and holding himself back so he wouldn't attack Vlad just on general principal. That's when Danny was able to identify Vlad's weakness, a weakness he had always known about but had never realized was a weakness that could be taken advantage of.

Vlad was a lonely man.

Oddly enough, the more Danny ignored his one-time archenemy, the more power he seemed to gain over Vlad. It wasn't a measurable kind of power like Danny's ice abilities or ecto-blasts. It was more emotional in nature. Danny became less Vlad's puppet and more Vlad's puppeteer. The boy gained control of the adversarial relationship and Vlad had to react to him instead of him reacting to Vlad.

So Danny continued silently towards the garage, his mind on the force invading Amity Park, not on the man-ghost behind him.

"Daniel… Danny, please! I wouldn't come here if it weren't important."

Danny paused. Vlad never called him by his preferred name. "I'm busy, Plasmius. In case you haven't heard the alarm, Amity Park is experiencing a ghost invasion."

"Which is precisely why I'm here."

_What?_ That caught Danny's attention. He turned towards the older ghost for an explanation and was startled by the expression on his face. Vlad looked worried

"Vlad?"

"Don't go."

Danny blinked. That wasn't what he was expecting. "Excuse me?"

"Don't go. Stay here, with your wife, with your friends. Ignore the alarm, Danny, I'm begging you."

_Pfeh,_ Danny thought_. Figures. He must gain something out of this invasion._ He phased through the ceiling and into the garage where Sam, Tucker and Valerie had finished packing and suiting up. They looked up at him expectantly, frowning simultaneously as they saw who had followed him.

"Danny, please!"

"Shove off, Vlad."

Plasmius grabbed his arm, yanking him roughly around. "You don't understand! None of this is what you think. This isn't about me. It's about you! You can't stand up to this ghost's power. She's practically a god!"

Danny snorted, phasing his arm out of Vlad's grip. "Funny thing about that statement, Vlad. Practically means almost and almost a god is still _not_ a god."

"Yeah," Tucker added for emphasis.

Danny joined the other three, kissing his wife deeply for luck.

"Be safe out there," she said to him.

"I will if you will," he replied.

She smiled and nodded.

"Daniel…", Vlad practically screeched. "Danny, listen to me. You can't go out there."

"All systems ready!" Valerie announced as she jumped on her jet sled.

"Let's go, Phantom," Sam said.

Tucker opened the garage door from the Specter Speeder's front seat. "It's now or never, Dude."

Danny nodded grimly. "Then let's kick ectoplasm."

Vlad threw himself in the garage door opening, holding his arms out as if he alone could stop the foursome from leaving. "No," the older ghost begged. "Stay here."

It was the pleading which got to him. Danny had learned how to control his Fenton temper, but he had never completely gotten rid of it. And this pathetic display of Vlad's finally tipped him over the edge. "Why, Vlad? Why do you not want us to stop this ghost? "

"She kill you, Danny. She'll kill each and every one of you. You can't go out there."

"And how many people will this mysterious 'she' kill in the meantime? Tell me, Vlad. What's in it for you? How many lives is worth it?"

For a heartbeat, Vlad was silent. He seemed diminished, somehow, deflated. "Nothing," he whispered. "Nothing for me if you stay. But if you go…"

Danny waited impatiently, green ecto-energy building around his hands as he prepared to blast Vlad out of the way.

"…if you go… Shimmer will kill you…take you away from…everyone you've ever loved."

The glow faded from around Danny's hands as he processed the information Vlad had just given him. _Shimmer, huh?_ He glanced over at his friends and nodded.

The enemy had a name.

Now they just had to find her weak spot.

Danny put one hand on the Specter Speeder, where Tucker and Sam were seated, grabbing Valerie's hand with the other. They launched themselves into the air, Danny turning them all intangible as they approached the ceiling. Through and out the ghost hunters went, leaving an old, heart-broken half-ghost behind.

"Daniel, no!"

Alone and left behind, Vlad Plasmius, the terror of the ghost zone, fell to his knees and cried.

---------

The battle did not go well. Shimmer's forces didn't actually seem to be trying to conquer Amity Park, they were just destroying it. They weren't even over-shadowing the populace. Valerie and Sam took off on jet sleds, blasting every target they could while Tucker laid booby trap mines with the Speeder. Danny, of course, ended up engaged in a head-to-head match against the main baddy who shifted her form as often as Bertrand was want to do.

At first, the SD team held their own, even gained some ground. But then the Specter Speeder got hit and Tucker had to bail before it exploded in a million shards of deadly shrapnel. He barely made it to the ground when he was literally mobbed by dozens of Shimmer's troops. His scream could be heard over the team comlink. Sam tried to reach him, but it was no good. An ecto-blast took out her jet sled. She hit the side of a building, shoulder first. She felt the shoulder dislocate, but held the pain at bay, not so much as whimpering until Tucker's screaming abruptly stopped with the sickening sound of a wet crunch. She jumped back to her feet, but didn't make it far. A stray ecto-blast demolished an overhead balcony, bringing its remnants crashing down upon Sam's head.

Valerie was next. The talented martial artist didn't see what happened to her friends, but she knew, the same way Sam had known when Tucker's voice was no longer heard on the comlink, which way the wind was blowing. She focused her anger and hurt into her fighting, cutting a wide swath through the ghost troops. And she almost succeeded, until, at the last minute, Val realized the ghosts had let her destroy their own in order to lead her into a trap. She hit the sled's turbo with her foot, but it was too late. Alone and surrounded, Valerie fought with every weapon she had until her suit ran out of power and unexpectedly retracted back into her bracelet. Unarmored, but not entirely defenseless, she continued to fight with her last breath as tears streamed down her face.

Danny, of course, was last.

Not because there was an order to these things. No, he was simply last because he was the most powerful one of them all. As Danny Phantom, the ghostly protector of Amity Park, he could tangle with any ghostly foe on her own level instead of depending on gadgets and armor. He knew something was wrong when Tucker screamed, but didn't have a chance to react. His hands were full with Shimmer. His foe was strong, stronger than Vlad and much stronger than Pariah, the legendary Ghost King. Nothing seemed to faze her. Shimmer took everything he had and simply shrugged it off or threw it back at him. And it hurt. She cut through his shields like they were paper māché and tossed him around like he was a rag doll. Every time she attacked, she landed a wounding blow, while his attempts to retaliate missed at least half the time.

It wasn't a fight. It was a massacre. Danny didn't stand a chance. At the end, he stood defiant, costume shredded, green ectoplasm dripping from his fatal wounds. At the end, he was still fighting.

And the citizens of Amity Park watched on national television as the SDs, their heroes, and Danny Phantom, their idol, died to protect them.

-------

Vlad didn't make it to the funeral. He didn't have time. There was someone he desperately had to find.

It didn't take him long. Desiree was always easy to locate by the sudden rush of good luck number simultaneously enjoyed by large numbers of random communities. The wish-granting ghost was enjoying herself in Hollywood, as evidenced by the obscene number of block-buster hits which had hit theatres recently. She laughed when he asked her to grant a wish.

"I don't grant wishes to ghosts."

A black ring surrounded Vlad's waist, halving and transforming him back into a rather dashing white-haired, black-suited business man. "I'm human now."

Desiree shook her finger at him. "You're still half ghost, no matter what you look like. I don't grant wishes to ghosts. Not after that last one you made. I'm not stupid, you know."

"It isn't for me. Please, Desiree. I'll give you anything you want. Just grant me one wish." He could barely hold back the tears as he pleaded with her.

"No."

And that was her final word.

Desiree was his first option, but that didn't make her his last. He searched the ghost zone high and low for any other wish-granting ghosts. The few in existence, less powerful than Desiree, avoided him.

When the other ghosts proved unhelpful, Vlad focused his search on mystical artifacts. Most of them weren't of the proper nature, and of those which were, like the Reality Gauntlet, many had been destroyed or lost so thoroughly, there was no place to start searching for them. Those that remained were so heavily guarded, by spells, creatures and the magicians who owned them, that Vlad barely survived his failed attempts to take them.

Weeks stretched into months. Months became a year. Vlad tried sorcerers, who refused to help someone they recognized as greedy and grasping as themselves. He tried spells, which failed because he was a ghost, not a magic user. He even approached a few infamous necromancers, who turned out to be shills making money off of the distraught wealthy relatives of the deceased the necromancers were pretending to raise.

Finally, with every other option exhausted, the half-ghost tried something he never thought he would. He went in search of gods.

The obvious choice was the Egyptian pantheon. But when he attempted to gain access to Field of Reeds to speak to Anubis and Osiris, he was denied access. Thoth wanted to weigh his heart against the Feather of Truth, and given all the horrible things he had done with this life, Vlad knew exactly how _that_ would turn out. So he refused to hand it over and was consequently refused permission to enter.

He spent only a brief period of time in Asia before realizing eastern mysticism didn't have anything to help him, then continued east back to the United States to check out the possibilities of American Indian magic. He shouldn't have bothered. The European Invasion of North America had pretty much obliterated any useful knowledge that could have helped him with his quest.

Celtic lore was so muddled with modern new-age interpretations that it was pretty much useless and no matter how hard he searched, he couldn't find the Rainbow Bridge to Asgard. He knew better than to visit the Vatican, Jerusalem or Mecca. The modern god of the west and middle east wasn't known for being particularly helpful with these matters, and the African tribal gods literally chased Vlad off the continent with lightning.

Two years of searching and he had nothing to show for it. If there were any hope for him to accomplish his quest, it lay in Greece. But the Greeks weren't known for their resurrection stories. The only tale Plasmius had heard which even came close was the sordid tragedy of Orpheus. Orpheus, the first celebrity musician, who won his love's spirit from Hades' grasp with a heartbreaking song, only to lose it at the entrance to the Underworld because he made the mistake of looking back to see if the god had kept his promise.

It was a thin straw, but Vlad was willing to grasp at it. And if Hades could find and release Daniel's soul to him, Vlad would not make the mistake of distrusting the god and looking back. Orpheus's tragedy would be the half-ghost's salvation.

Or so he thought.

---------

It was the first day of autumn when he found the cave.

Nearby, a single tree was already turning its leaves into pale shades of yellow and brown, though the other trees Vlad had seen in the area were still vibrantly green. The middle-aged ghost frowned at it before he finally remembered.

"This is the day Daniel died."

He felt a lone tear course down his check at the memory, his heart just as sore as it had been when the boy, Daniel would always be "the boy" to him, had flown away with his wife and two friends. They had all died valiantly. He had seen the clips on the news. But they shouldn't have had to die. If they had just listened to him. If he had just tried harder to get through to them.

And that's when he heard the snarl.

He could feel hot breath on the back of his collar and smell the stench of brimstone coming from behind him. When he turned, he was greeted by the sight of the largest, strangest dog he had ever seen. The beast was twice as tall as he was, with three separate heads attached to one body. Acidic saliva dripped from all three jaws as one head snarled, the middle sniffed at him and the third opened its jaws.

Vlad went intangible as the third head snapped its mouth down on his arm, only to yell in pain as the teeth actually connected, ripping through both sleeve and skin.

_Stupid, Plasmius,_ he chided himself as he loosed an ecto-blast from his eyes into the eyes of the third head_. Of course he's going to be able to hurt you! Think about what you're fighting._

The other two heads howled in pain, the third loosening its grasp just enough for Vlad to pull his arm away. He knew this dog, now that he recalled his mythology. Cerberus, guardian of the Underworld's entrance, who's job was to keep anyone, especially spirits, from leaving the Underworld. Which is why he had the ability to damage Vlad in his ghost form. What Vlad didn't understand was why Cerberus was attacking him when he was trying to get in, not out.

The dog lunged at him again, one head going for Vlad's legs, the other two going for each of his arms. Vlad jumped back, forming a shield from ectoplasm. "Stupid dog, I'm not an escapee. I'm trying to gain entrance."

The dog's snake tail whipped around, burrowing through Vlad's shield and biting through his boot.

"ARGH!"

There was poison in that bite. Vlad could feel it coursing through his bloodstream. Even though he was in his ghost form right now, he was still half-human. This creature could kill his mortal side with impunity. His shield crumbled as he stumbled back in pain. As Cerberus attacked again, it suddenly occurred to Vlad why the dog was attacking.

_Idiot! Fool! Cerberus doesn't just keep the spirits from getting out, he doesn't allow living mortals _into_ the Underworld either. He must be able to sense that I'm still partially alive!_

Armed with that knowledge, Vlad flew up in the air and duplicated himself twice over. With four of himself on the defense, he was able to take on the dog's three heads and snake tail. The plan was simple. Get the dog as far away from the entrance of the cave so his main self could sneak in while Cerberus was chasing his duplicates. It worked with surprising ease. The duplicates didn't last long, but then, then didn't have to. By the time the last had been chomped out of existence by Cerberus, Vlad was long gone, flying down the tunnel to Hades' domain.

-----------

The tunnel went on forever. The farther Vlad went, the heavier he felt. It was if gravity was grasping him, dragging him down. Then again, it could have been the poison in his foot or the acid in his arm wound. He could feel both of them, one like fire, the other like ice, creeping slowly through his body. His injured arm was numb, though he could feel ectoplasmic blood dripping off the tips of his fingers. His eyesight blurred as the tunnel widened and brightened, and without further warning, he hit the rocky ground, tumbling and rolling for several feet.

When his body stopped moving, Vlad lay on his back gasping. Vlad had been going since the day Daniel died. He was so obsessed with his quest, he never took the time to heal from the injuries sustained in the last two years. Unfortunately, the constraint strain was finally taking its toll on him. He was exhausted, hungry and tired. His power was completely diminished, triggering the change back to his mortal form.

The sound of crunching gravel reached Vlad's ears and he opened his eyes to see a tall, voluptuous woman even more beautiful than his lovely Maddie Fenton, Daniel's mother. This woman was dressed in a double-girded chiton of the palest green. Her long, curly hair was the color of richest gold, her skin the rich olive hue of a mediterrean beauty, and her eyes were the deep blue of the Aegean sea.

"Are you well," she asked. Her's was a voice as breathy as a spring breeze and as sweet as a swallow's song. If Vlad weren't still hung up on Daniel's mother, he would have fallen instantly head-over-heels in love with this vision.

"I…I'm fine. Thank you." He struggled to sit up.

She reached out to him, wrapping her delicate hands around his uninjured arm and helped him to his feet.

He was bleeding blood now, not ectoplasm, and vertigo hit him with a vengeance as he straightened out. When his vision finally cleared and his head stopped ringing, Vlad found the woman gently supporting his weight with a bemused expression. Behind her, flowed a dark river, the width of a football field.

"Tell me. Why does one of the living come to this place?"

He took a deep breath, fixing his suit coat as he often did when he was preparing to charm someone. "I seek an audience with Hades, Lord of the Underworld."

She took a step back from him, canting her head to the side and smiling. "It is said Lord Hades only sees those who are dead."

"I know, but I must see him. It is a matter of utmost urgency."

"Tell me," she invited.

Vlad shook his head. "No. I must speak to him and him alone." He eyed the river, trying to figure out the best way to cross. Flying wasn't an option now and while the river looked slow enough to swim across, he vaguely remembered there was supposed to be something dangerous about attempting that particular feat.

"Do not swim," she advised, as if reading his mind. "You will never reach the other side. Those who swim are forever trapped in its waters, perpetually drowning. Do not drink of its waters either. You will loose yourself and all that makes you yourself."

"Where are we?" He asked in wonder. Her description sounded familiar but he couldn't remember the name.

She chuckled, a merry sound reminding him of bubbling brooks and cicadas. "On the banks of the River Styx. There is only one way to cross. We must wait for Charon, the Ferryman. When he is here, you may cross with me, providing you have brought your fare."

Startled, he looked at her. She reached in her mouth, under her tongue, and pulled out two gold coins.

"You have brought your fare, have you not?"

_Oh, Apple Crisp,_ he cursed to himself._ I've been so wrapped up in my quest I completely forgot about paying the ferryman._

She smiled again. "Why don't you tell me what you seek of Lord Hades. When I reach the other side, I can petition him on your behalf. We have the time. Charon will not be here for a while."

He considered his options. There weren't many. Orpheus had beguiled Charon with music, but Vlad was no poet. Without his ghost powers, he couldn't threaten Charon. And if he went back to the living world to get money for the ferryman, he might not be able to pass Cerberus a second time. He did not doubt the woman's words about the consequences of swimming the Styx. He sighed and looked the woman over. She seemed honest, nice and trustworthy. Moreover, this was his last option. Vlad had nothing else to lose.

"Please," he started. Stopped. Bowed gracefully to her in as charming a manner as he could. "I would be grateful, My Lady, if you could carry my petition to Lord Hades' ears."

She nodded, her smile widening. "Speak then. You have my word I will help if I can."

"I am Vlad Masters and I am here to ask Lord Hades to return a soul to the living world." It was essential she understand how important the boy was, so he told her of the accident which changed Daniel into the half-ghost Danny Phantom and how he became a hero in his home town of Amity Park. He included highlights of Phantom's best battles, then spoke of Shimmer's attack on Amity Park, of how he tried to warn Daniel, Valerie, Sam and Tucker, of the foursome's valiant sacrifice. By the time he finished, there were tears in his eyes and his throat was so tight he could barely speak.

"You want Lord Hades to bring Daniel back to life," she quietly mused when Vlad's words ran out.

Vlad nodded. "Yes."

"Yet you leave so much out of your story. You fail to speak of your own accident in college, caused, you believe, by your best friend Jack Fenton. There is no mention of your obsession with Jack's wife, whom you would do anything to possess, including killing your best friend. And then you conveniently disguise the true reason you wish for young Daniel's life. Tell me, do you believe if you convince Lord Hades to do this, that Danny will be grateful enough to come to your side?"

Vlad was stunned. How did she know of this? How did she know of him? Who was this woman? "No. It's not that," he denied.

No longer smiling, the woman before him was now distant, aloof. There was a quiet strength to her he hadn't seen before this. "Then what is it, Vlad Plasmius? Why do you wish for this boy's life?"

"Because…because…"

He couldn't do this. A part of him did want Daniel's gratitude for saving him and yet Vlad knew the truth. Daniel would hate him if he rescued Daniel and did not save the others. Even if he did manage to save all four, he knew deep in his heart the boy still wouldn't come to him. And worse, there were the reasons he had tried to prevent Daniel and the others from going up against Shimmer to begin with. Reasons that were bigger than his selfish need for validation.

Clearing his throat, he spoke the words, admitting the reality he had denied for so long. "Because, they need a hero. Because I once made a wish, granted by Desiree, which enabled me to see the future and a future without Daniel, without him or his friends, is a grim one. He is needed. They are all needed. Yes, I wanted him for my son. I wish he would have willingly come to my side, becoming my heir, but that doesn't matter now. The world needs him, cannot survive without him. And he needs his friends so he can be the hero the world requires."

The splash of a pole hitting the water could be heard in the distance, the sound of a returning ferry.

Vlad fell to his knees, his hands clasped imploringly in the gesture of Christian prayer. "I'm begging you, My Lady. Be my voice to Lord Hades. Convince him to return these people back to the living world. I will do anything for this."

The woman eyed him quietly, her expression serene. After some moments, when Vlad was sure she was going to refuse, she finally spoke. "Anything? Truly? Even give your soul for them?"

"Yes!" Vlad promised desperately. Life without the boy was no life at all, he found out when Daniel had started ignoring him. Until that point, he hadn't realized how badly he needed the acknowledgement his young foe had once given him.

She reached out a delicate hand and brushed the top of his head. A strange tingling sensation filled him, chasing away the pain of his injuries. "So you have promised, so you are bound."

The crunch of gravel echoed in the cavern as the ferry came ashore. Charon was a foreboding figure in his hooded cloak. His voice, when it came, was dark and rough. "Lady Persephone, your lord husband awaits."

Terror filled Vlad as he looked up into the knowing blue eyes of the woman before him. _The first day of autumn. How did I not know her identity? I thought she was just another dead soul awaiting the ferry._

"I own you now," she whispered to him, the barest hint of a smirk on her face. "You have pledged yourself to me, Vlad Masters, Vlad Plasmius. You belong to me and will do as I say, when I say. Do you understand?"

He swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, nodding frantically. "Yes, Lady Goddess. You…you will bring him…them…back?"

The smirk changed to a gentle smile as she patted him on the head. "Everything has its time, My Darling Ghost-Man. Two years ago, it was Danny's time. And Tucker's and Sam's and Valerie's. But you are correct. The world needs Danny Phantom and Phantom cannot function without his friends. There will be a day, some time in the far future, when I can release them from the land of the dead. When the threat they are meant to truly protect the world from will come. Prepare for that day, Dear Vlad, so they have something to work with. Prepare and wait for me to come for you. I will keep my word. I so swear it by the River Styx. See that you keep your word to me and remember to whom you now owe your allegiance."

He nodded, unable to trust his voice. He wanted to believe her, but… _Remember the lessons of Orpheus,_ he admonished himself. _Do not lose faith, do not break your word, or you will lose any chance of getting Daniel back._

As the goddess stepped into the ferry, silver sparkles filled the air around her. Her bare feet became clothed with sandals, her chiton changing color from green to midnight black, the same color her hair changed to. The sparkles even changed her eyes to a charcoal grey and her skin to a pale whitish-blue as she sat on the ferry's lone bench.

Vlad gasped. This was something he hadn't expected. "You! You're a half-ghost?"

Persephone frowned at him, tossing her black curly locks over her shoulder. The voice she spoke with this time was the deep, cold echo of a tomb. "Do not insult me, My Dear. I am a goddess, not a mortal and certainly not a spirit. This is my form as Queen of the Underworld. The other is my form as the daughter of Demeter. I am neither half-alive nor half-dead. I simply am. Now, go. Prepare the world for the return of Danny Phantom."

"Yes, Lady Goddess." Vlad's reply sounded harsh and raspy even to him.

Charon poled the ferry off the bank and back into the Styx. Vlad got to his feet trying to decide what he was going to do next when the sepulchre-like voice of his new Mistress caught his attention with a final warning.

"Remember, Vlad. He is not your son. He never has been; he never will be. But perhaps, if you play your cards right, one day he can be your friend."

-------

It was snowing by the time Vlad reached his Wisconsin castle, a sign that winter had arrived in full force. He had never thought about the change in seasons before as much more than a natural event. But now, having met and pledged his loyalty to a goddess who was reportedly the reason for winter, he looked around at the whitened landscape with a new sense of wonder and awareness.

"Prepare", she had told him, and so he did. He wrote his will, set up several trust funds and increased the budget for his company's ghost research division. Their mandate was changed to think more long term while he created a new division solely for the purpose of mass-producing, and stock-piling, anti-ghost weapons. He even arranged to buy Spectre Detectors, Inc., keeping the company and its property intact for when Danny and his friends returned. It belonged to them, after all. It was their heritage.

And when Vlad was done, when he had completed every task he could think of, he did the only thing that was left to do.

He waited to die.


	2. Chapter 2

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry, sorry, sorry for it being so long since my last posts. If you check out my profile (recently updated) you'll notice I've been a bit busy. I want to thank everyone who's still reading my stuff and adding me to authors fav lists & story favs list. I like that kind of stuff._

_  
As always, reviews are welcome. Things are going to get a lot lighter (for a while) in this story as I re-introduce everyone. I'd love to see if you can figure out who is whom in this story. And by the by, I missed most of the third season, DARNIT! I only knew it was happening when I saw the ads for "Phantom Planet" and by that time, it was too late. So, as far as I'm concerned, none of the third season happened (until I've seen it) and "Phantom Planet" definitely didn't happen in the past._

_I hope you enjoy the second installment of Resurrection! And if anyone knows where I can get copies of Season 3, please let me know. I desperately want to see what I missed._

* * *

Years in the future, a half-ghost sleeps, wrapped in velvet darkness so deep even he does not know where it ends or begins. He dreams of fights and foes and love. A woman known and lost, a boy who understood the true meaning of life and a friendship held but briefly before hatred and jealousy broke it in half. Over and over, the memories run through his mind and as he watches, he begins to see all the mistakes he made and all the things he could have done to improve his life. 

Sometimes he cries in his sleep. Sometimes he laughs. For the longest time, though, he simply dreams of better tomorrows and wasted yesterdays.

The seasons come and the seasons go during this long dreaming. Though it is dark, though he sleeps, he always feels the unbridled joy of summer, the soft goodbyes of autumn, the sharp bitter winds of winter and the awakening murmurs of spring.

And then, one day, it happens.

It is the first day of spring. He can smell fresh-cut grass and growing flowers. His soul reverberates with the sound of a voice, at once gentle, wise and implacable.

_Time to wake, My Darling. Once again Phantom walks the world and Shimmer knows._

_Shimmer._ The word sends his sleeping self into a panic and Vlad Masters wakes with a start.

"Shimmer," he gasps. "Goddess, I beg you protect the lad until I get there."

He feels her smile, warm and comforting. _He is safe for now, Dearest. I promise. Now here is what I require from you._

* * *

A sharp buzzing in his ear woke him, though he did his best to convince himself that he really wasn't awake. He pulled his pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the sound. It didn't work. The buzz sounded off again and, with a groan, he realized he had forgotten to take his i-bug out of his ear before he tumbled into bed the night before. 

The noise of his groan activated the tiny cell phone, picking up the call before he could pluck the thing out and put it on his nightstand.

"Dude!" shouted the teen male voice at the other end. "It's about time you answered. I was beginning to think you were going to be comatose through the whole weekend."

"Huh? What?"

A snicker came from the caller. "DeFranco, are you even awake yet?"

"No! Now leave me alone."

Laughter erupted. "Don, get your butt out of bed. The rally is today, remember? Me, you, lots of guts-n-glory from idiots doing stupid stunts with souped-up hover boards and jet sled races. Front row tickets, right next to the babes in bikinis?"

Now _that_ was something Donny DeFranco was willing to wake up to. The raven-haired, blue-eyed fifteen year old launched himself out of bed, grabbing for the cleanest clothes he could find. Preferably something that didn't smell like it had marinated in a junkyard. "Ack! Sorry, Denver. I completely forgot. What time is it?"

"Eight thirty. Show doesn't start till ten. You've got time. See you at the entrance in a bit?"

"Give me one hour. I've gotta grab some blooms for my girl."

Denver laughed again. "Dude, you are so owned."

Donny shook his head, even though his best friend couldn't see it, while shucking his pajamas and pulling on clean pants. "I am not. She's just incredibly good to me. Besides, she's going to be at the rally too, remember."

"And she'll never forgive you if you don't do something sickeningly sweet, right, Donny-Boy?"

"Bye, Denver," Donny warned right before he tapped the i-bug off. He knew better than to let Denver sound off about his girlfriend for too long. The two long-time buddies had a tendency to come perilously close to fighting when Denver started his "teasing".

It only took him a few moments to finish changing, brush his teeth and run a wet hand through his hair. Once done, he glanced around his bedroom for anything he might have forgotten. Shelves lined the far wall, littered with sports trophies, movie vids, music sticks and three e book readers. The bed was shoved sideways against one wall with a nightstand near the head and a computer desk standing at the foot. The remaining two walls were plastered with three dimensional posters. Heaps of clothing lay upon the floor. All in all, it was a typical teenager's room.

Grabbing his wallet and letter jacket, Donny pounded downstairs looking for breakfast only to get glared at by a pair of eyes hiding behind a newspaper.

"Will you quit stomping on the stairs like that? One of these days your going to fall right through." John DeFranco was a short, wizened man who didn't abide nonsense. He was a strict disciplinarian who expected everything in his life to be orderly. Chaos was unacceptable, which was probably why John DeFranco wasn't married.

"Sure, Dad," Donny muttered absently around bites of blueberry muffin. He shoveled the food in his mouth, commenting. "Mmm gng phoo da raly."

"Don't talk with your mouth full! Didn't I teach you better manners than that?"

Donny half-choked as he hastily swallowed. "I'm going to the rally," he repeated once his windpipe was clear.

His father snorted in disgust. "Is that girl going to be there?"

"Dad!"

John carefully folded the newspaper and put it on the table. "Donny, I don't like that girl. She's manipulating you."

Donny sighed. He loved his father, he really did. And he knew John loved him. Still, it was hard to remember the fact every time John found something to complain about. "Dad, you're a plumber and I'm just a high school student. She's practically a celebrity. She could have any guy she wants at any time. Besides, she's rich. Why would she possibly want to use me for that she can't get any place else?"

"Does she do drugs?"

"Dad! I can't believe you're suggesting that! My girlfriend is not a candy-head."

"What about her friends? I know how these famous rich kids work. They're all about the drugs, drinking and partying."

"I admit her friends are kind of strange, but it's not about drugs and I've never seen any of them drink."

"What about parties?"

"Dad!"

John DeFranco sighed heavily, then leaned over and ruffled his son's hair. "Just be careful, Son. I worry about you."

"I know, Dad. I know."

"Enjoy your rally. Curfew is at ten."

Donny bolted to his feet, checking his wallet for his cred-card. "Want me to get you anything while I'm out?"

"No thanks, Son. I'm just going to spend a quiet relaxing day at home reading about the latest in pipe design."

"Riiiiigggghhhhttt."

* * *

Compared to the old days, Amity Park was a crowded metropolis of skyscrapers, bullet trains and suburban sprawl. In the center of the tangle lay old town Amity, a wreck of a town crushed nearly two centuries ago in a violent invasion. 

The army of ghosts responsible for Amity Park's destruction rivaled every single standing army on the planet Earth, yet in the end could not stand up to the combined might of the United Nations and every single living ghost hunter on the planet. The battle was bloody, at least for the mortals, but after five long years, the town was freed from its ghostly conquerers and hadn't seen a ghost since.

Not that Donny DeFranco knew or cared.

He rode his hover-scooter through the streets of old-town, ignoring the heavily fenced-in campus of Spectre Detectors HQ, an old decrepit building with old fashioned satellite dishes on top—the broken sign stating ".en.on..ork."—, and the original city hall building now converted into a museum celebrating Amity Park history.

The closer he got to the fairgrounds, where the rally was being held, the busier the streets were. Parking spots were impossible to find the closer one got to the grounds. Donny didn't worry about it though. When he reached the rally, he pulled a bright orange pass out of his pocket and flashed it at the guards.

"I'm with the band," he yelled.

One of the guards waved him through. Donny parked near the performers' trailers, grabbing a wrapped bundle from his basket and ran towards the front gate. He found Denver and Kasey, his two best buddies, leering at the girls waiting in line.

Denver was a tall, muscular teenager with blond hair and blue eyes. The perfect quarterback with the perfect tan. Kasey was just a bit shorter than Denver, with an Asian complexion and the same build. The two could have been twins, personality wise that is. They wore the same types of clothing, ate the same types of food and told the same types of jokes.

_And they both like to pick on the geeks and nerds_, Donny thought to himself as Kasey grabbed a wrist-computer off someone in line and tossed it to Denver. The two football jocks played keep away from the angry African-American techno-geek wearing a red beret. Donny searched his memory for the geek's name as he approached.

"Leave him alone!" yelled a nice looking girl in a torn black fishnet body stocking covered with a short black skirt and three layered tank-tops of green, purple and black. She flipped black bangs out of her eyes as she pushed her way in front of Denver, her bangle bracelets and skull shaped earrings jangling definitely. "Tuck hasn't done anything to you! Give his comp back!"

_Wow. She's almost hot._ Donny remembered the geek now. Friar Tuck, they called him, due to his unrelenting preaching of the gospel of technology. The girl, if he recalled correctly, was named Sammarra but insisted on being called Mara. Most of the popular girls considered her weird, a freak. That's all Donny knew about the pair, though. He never had a reason to talk to them, let alone interact with them. Not until now.

Denver tossed the comp back to Kasey, laughing hysterically as Tuck stepped forward only to slip and fall into a mud puddle.

"Stop it!" Mara yelled, running at Kasey.

"Lookit, Den," Kasey mocked as he tossed the comp back. "The punk girl thinks she can hurt me."

Donny went into an instant sprint, jumping in the air and snagging the tiny computer with his free hand before Denver could catch it. Behind him, Mara screamed in fury at Kasey's comment.

"I'm a GOTH, you brainless Neanderthal! A goth! Not a punk."

"Go long, Dude," Denver cheered simultaneously, backing up so Donny could throw the comp in his direction.

Something moved in Donny's peripheral vision. He turned to see a muddy Tuck standing up and glaring. Mara left Kasey's side, her hands balled into fists as she added her own glare. The geek and the freak were determined, ready to defend each other no matter the cost.

Donny swallowed as something familiar stirred inside him. He recognized the fire in their eyes. Denver and Kasey both yelled encouragement at him to join the game, but he couldn't find it in his heart to do so. Up until this point in his life, he managed to avoid getting pulled into his friends bully tactics. He always hated those games so made sure to be somewhere else when the other kids of his circle decided to play them. That way, he wouldn't be drawn into doing something he hated and his friends would never know he was a geek-sympathizer at heart.

Now, though, he had just put himself in the middle of the game. He had a choice. Continue playing at the expense of someone else's dignity and his own morality, or let his friends know exactly where he stood, risking his social standing and everything he had ever wanted from his life.

No choice at all, really. His moral principals always had a habit of getting him into trouble.

Silently, he held the wrist-comp out towards Friar Tuck, who hesitated to take it, frowning in confusion. Mara hissed in aggravation, snatching the device from Donny's open hand as if she fully expected him to pull his hand back at the last moment. Her snarl turned to surprise when Donny did nothing of the sort.

"Hey!" Denver yelped. "Don, what are you doing?"

"Yeah," Tuck added. "What are you trying to pull?"

"Nothing," Donny responded quietly. "I just don't like the joke."

Mara glared at him suspiciously again. "Aren't you one of the brainless jock crew?"

Donny glared back. "Playing football makes me a jock, but it doesn't mean I'm witless."

She smirked. "Only because you haven't taken as many blows to the head as your two friends there."

Kasey stalked up, anger in his features. "Watch it, Freak. That's my friend you're dissing."

"What are you going to do about it? Hit me? Go ahead!"

Denver picked up a stick from the ground, thwapping it against his palm threateningly. He opened his mouth only to shut it again when Donny raised his hand.

"Cool it, Guys," he said as calmly as he could, trying to hold back his own temper. "Mara and Tuck have a right to be mad. You started this fight, after all."

The freak and geek started in surprise. "How do you know our names, DeFranco?" Tuck demanded.

"Does it matter?" Donny replied, the slightly bitter edge to his voice betraying the hurt he felt from Mara's and Tuck's attitudes. "After all, I'm just a brainless jock, right?"

He turned to his two friends, shaking his bundled blooms. "Come on, Guys. My girlfriend is waiting."

* * *

Mara looked at her best friend Tuck, who was busy scratching his head. The encounter with DeFranco had shaken her to the core. His eyes were gorgeous, the color of deep blue ocean. She hadn't noticed that before. Of course, she had never really looked at him before. She avoided popular kids like they had the plague. 

"Uh, Mara, what just happened?"

"One of the most popular kids in school just defended you, Tuck."

Tuck shook his head, wiping the mud off the front of his shirt. "No way. I was just imagining that."

"Yes way."

"Oh my god! It's the end of the world as we know it!"

"Yeah," Mara sighed in regret. She had never wanted to talk to a boy so badly in her life. Which meant she was crushing on a jock. Of all the people in the world she could fall for, a football jerk was not on her list. And DeFranco had the nerve to be a _nice_ football jerk. "End of the world. That's pretty much what I figured."

* * *

The three teenage boys got through the front gate early, while the rest of the crowd was still waiting for the rally to start. Danny flashed his orange pass again, then him, Kasey and Denver handed over their tickets. Once they were in, they headed straight for the stage area, though Kasey and Denver kept stopping at booths to drool over the latest in jet sleds and sled accessories. 

"Guys, come on. She's waiting for me," Donny complained.

"Dude, you are so owned," Denver quipped again.

"Yeah," Kasey joined in. "She's got you whipped like a dog."

Donny merely gritted his teeth and kept walking. There were days when he wondered why he hung around with these two.

In the "popular click" at school, when push came to shove, it was every kid for himself unless the whole group was at risk. At which point, all of them would defend each other. Even when surrounded by flirtatious girls and fellow jocks, Donny felt empty, lonely and afraid. He jumped at shadows for no reason at all, save the strange sensation that he was being watched. He was smarter than most of his friends and had to deliberately fail tests or forget homework assignments so he wouldn't be verbally abused even more by the kids he hung around. When he went home for the day, it was just him and his father; no siblings, no mother. And Donny was lucky if his father wasn't out on a call or busy building some new contraption to install in someone's house.

Every day became more silent than the day before. Donny found himself keeping secrets from his so-called best friends because he didn't want to be laughed at or ignored at school. The secrets weren't anything big. Just little things like what movies he really liked or comic books he read. As he got older, though, the number of things Denver and Kasey disapproved of became as long of a list as the mental list John DeFranco kept. In a room full of people, Donny DeFranco was completely alone even though other not-so-popular kids laughed at his horrid jokes or tried to curry favor by offering to his homework.

He found himself thinking about Friar Tuck and Mara. Two of the loneliest kids in school. Or so one would think. But he remembered seeing them share jokes, hanging out in the hallways, helping each other with homework. They seemed close, as if they were real friends with each other. He envied that. Not having to live up to other people's expectations, not having to be judged by how one dressed or the music one listened to. Those two knew how to stick up for each other and themselves. They were free to express their own opinions without consequence.

And Mara really did look hot in that body stocking.

_Stop it, DeFranco. You already _have _a girlfriend._

Kasey and Denver stopped to drool over a new hover board, the Plasmius Mark 6000. It was a sweet little ride, all cobalt blue with fire-orange racing stripes. Donny stopped to watch them, standing a foot away. They talked about what they would do with it while he stood outside the bubble, like he always did, wishing desperately he didn't feel so much like an outsider. Suddenly, Donny shivered, his breath hanging in the air as if the temperature had dropped several degrees. This was his only warning. He knew what was coming next. After all, the breath thing never happened unless he was near _Her_.

Arms wrapped around his chest from behind. "Hello, Lover," a warm voice purred in his ear.

She pressed up against his back like a cat. Donny shivered again, this time with a sensation of fire in his belly. She was the only person in his life that he could trust, the only one he could be completely honest with. Around her, he felt like he could do anything, be anyone, and not be judged.

Denver was right, though Donny would never admit it out loud. She really did have Donny twisted around her pinky finger. All she had to do was ask and he would give her the world.

Donny held up his package towards the shoulder she was leaning over. He tried to open his mouth, but found his mouth too dry to speak. She had a habit of doing that to him.

She freed one hand, taking the flowers. "Oh, blue irises. My favorite! Thank you." She planted a heavy kiss on his neck.

"Anytime." Donny twisted around to face his girlfriend, grinning like an idiot. "Hello, Ember."

The rock star with light blue flame-like hair and her blue-tinted skin (presumably it was her stage makeup, though he had never seen her without the strange coloring) smiled broadly as she pressed herself up against his chest. "God, I love it when you say my name. Say it again."

Donny laughed and obliged. "Ember, Ember, Ember."

Ember slipped her hand behind his neck, pulling him closer and kissed him deeply on the lips. When she finally released him, she glanced at the flowers then looked coyly back at him. "Oh, yes," she muttered half to herself, "this is definitely working."

Confused, Donny opened his mouth to ask his famous, celebrity girlfriend what she meant, but before he could voice the words Ember silenced him with another kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

_Authors notes: Hmmm. Looks like "Resurrection" chapters are going to be shorter than "Do Overs". Let me know if you think this is a problem. Reviews are always welcomed. I hope you find this chapter a bit more exciting then the last one. I seem to be on a roll, so thought I'd pass this chapter on for your perusal._

_BTW, I'm curious. How many people didn't catch the "I'm with the band" comment Donny made? One of my readers was apparently slightly incensed about the identity Donny's girlfriend (in a funny-laughing-chokingbackagrrivation kind of way) and I'd like to know how many people didn't expect that particular punchline._

_Lastly, which crossover would you find more interesting: Buffy, DC Universe—which hero(es)?—or Ghostbusters? Lemme know. I have thoughts a-brewin', but I'll probably wait until I'm done with "Do Overs" before I start a new fic._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------_

Thanks to his girlfriend, Donny always got the best seats in the house at her concerts. He also managed to get seats for the rest of Casper High's ruling elite. Beside him sat fellow football stars Denver and Kasey, as well as Paulette and Stacey, two members of Casper High's cheer leading squad. Together, the five of them set the fashions and created the trends of local high school life. They were the A-List, even had a club with membership cards and other perks. Every single other kid in school envied them, wanted to be them.

Donny usually found himself wanting to be anything but one of them.

Not today though. Today, the five of them sat in front row seats at Ember's sold-out concert letting the music wash over them in waves. Pulse-pounding beats slammed into them from every speaker, lifting their spirits, bringing them joy. Sometimes Donny would catch Ember playing directly to him, especially during the love ballads peppered throughout her set, and it would send his emotions into a spiral of ecstasy. His strict, orderly home life, the overbearing football coach, the problems with his schoolwork all became nothing. Here, now, in this moment, his life was perfection itself.

He smiled as Ember riffed, letting her rhythm work its healing magic on him. Her song was "Remember My Name", but the notes from her guitar spoke to him alone, saying "This is how things are meant to be." He closed his eyes and the image of lavender eyes outlined in kohl floated up before him. Defiant, proud and flustered lavender eyes.

But Ember's eyes were blue.

His soul reverberated with an internal snap so loud Donny opened his eyes in shock. His breath came in short gasps as he turned away from stage to search the crowd. The music was forgotten. So was Ember. Whose eyes were those? He had just seen them recently. If only he could place them.

TWWWAAAAANNNGGG!

People winced at the off-key screech echoing across the speakers. Donny ignored it. Where was she, the owner of those purple eyes? Then he found them, Tuck and Mara sitting several rows behind him. No, lavender wasn't the right shade. Mara's eyes were bright, sparkling amethysts and he saw her freeze in shock as his gaze met hers.

Just then, another tune started up. One of Ember's love ballads. The music tugged at him, pulled him back around. He tried to fight and found his muscles responding without his consent. Just as his head turned the final few degrees towards the stage, his eyes fell into the deep, knowing gaze of an elderly man. His eyes were as blue as Donny's, set off by the man's white hair and immaculately pressed black suit. It took only a micro-second for Donny to absorb all that, then the man disappeared from view and Donny's full attention was back on his girlfriend, Ember.

Twisting a knob on her electric guitar, she strummed so hard the strings looked ready to break. Donny rocked in his seat, the force of her song vibrating through his chest as if it had hit him with a physical blow. The glare in her eyes dared him to turn away from her again and then he couldn't remember why he had looked away to begin with. His girlfriend was singing to him. Not at him, not for him. She was singing to him and only him. And suddenly he remembered why he loved her so much.

She was good to him. He could be anything or anyone around her. No other girl could come close to comparing to _his_ Ember.

After that moment, he was so lost in the music she played for him, he completely forgot about Mara, Tuck, the elderly man and everything else that might possible distract him.

----------

Mara only came to the concert because Tuck begged her to. Before the concert began, she surreptitiously placed her i-Bug in her ear and keyed up her favorite tunes. So while her best friend danced and shouted with the rest of the clueless masses, she sat still in her seat with old-fashioned death metal tunes sounding in her ear.

It was easy to find the popular kids. They were right up front, in the seats Mara could have gotten if she actually wanted to see this concert. Denver was snuggled up with Paulette, Stacey was practically sitting in Kasey's lap and DeFranco...

DeFranco was alone. No girlfriend beside him.

Her heart skipped a beat. He was single?

_Don't be stupid, _she told herself. _How can Casper High's star running back be single? _ She looked closer, trying not to be obvious about it. Not that Tuck was paying any attention to her. He was busy yelling Ember's name at the top of his lungs.

Jet black hair, tousled and uncombed in a dashing kind of way. A slender frame that was all lean muscle and no fat. DeFranco didn't have the bulk or height of the other football players, but he was fast. So fast, rumor had it the track coach kept trying to poach DeFranco from the football team. Rumor said a lot of things about DeFranco, if only because no one knew much about him. Unlike Denver and Kasey, Donny DeFranco didn't go around bragging about his life. In fact, despite his high status at the school, he was actually kind of quiet and tended to disappear when all the fights started.

Mara chewed her lower lip, trying to understand the mystery of Donny DeFranco when suddenly he sat up straight and started to scan the crowd behind him. The expression on his face was odd, one of urgency. The sound of a dying animal screeched out of the speakers, but Mara barely noticed. DeFranco's gaze locked onto her face, his eyes met hers, and she froze as her heart fell into a deep blue ocean.

She couldn't breath, she couldn't think. Recognition sent fingers of fire down her spine. The stunned expression on his face looked like an exact mirror of how she felt. What was wrong with her? _The heck with that. What's wrong with him?_

Stunned quickly drained away into vacant, leaving behind an empty look in the jock's eyes as he slowly turned away. Breath came back to her, as did her wits, and Mara found herself actually worried. _This can't be good. _His movements were puppet-like as he faced the stage again. She saw him sway in his seat as the band played a sappy ballad. Then he was still as a statue, completely engaged by the music. Mara lifted her gaze, gasping as Ember practically stalked across the stage towards DeFranco. The singer's face was a mask of fury despite the gentle notes she sang.

It took Mara several minutes, but as the song finished and changed to a new one, she found herself cursing with realization. "Oh, dammit. He _does_ have a girlfriend."

-----------

The concert ended to thunderous applause, with practically everyone in the stands shrieking Ember's name. Even Donny was on his feet cheering. Ember winked at him after her last encore then left the stage. Apparently, he was forgiven. Now if he could just remember what horrible thing he had done to her so he could properly ask for an apology.

"That was so awesome." Paulette clapped her hands and jumped in place, her long brunette hair bouncing with her.

"Wasn't it just?" Stacey asked, repining her own blond locks with the Ember barrette she had purchased at the band's paraphernalia counter.

"Dude," Denver slapped Donny on the back. "Best seats ever!"

"Yeah," Kasey added. "It almost makes up for earlier."

The girls gave the guys a blank look. "Earlier?"

Donny sighed. _Not again._ "Look, you can bully those kids any school day of the week. Can't we just have one day off to have fun by ourselves?"

Paulette threaded her arm through Donny's, laughing merrily. "What's the matter, Sweetie. Putting losers in their place is high entertainment."

Frowning, Donny fought the urge to shrug the cheerleader off. "And us paying attention to the losers every day, even if it is just for a beating, gives them a bit of status, doesn't it?"

"Eck! Paulette, he's right." Stacey shuddered with disgust.

Denver looked thoughtful, not a good expression on his broad face. "Dude, you might actually have a point."

"He does," Paulette agreed.

"Man," Kasey complained, "now I'm feeling sick to my stomach."

Denver snorted. "And you haven't even had the super-duper double chili dogs yet."

The argument quickly dissolved into a discussion of food, jet sleds and what event the group was going to next. They waited until most of the crowd left before exiting the stadium themselves. A few groups ahead, Donny saw Mara and Tuck laughing at some shared joke. Jealousy stabbed at him, though he knew no reason for it, so he did his best to ignore the pair.

The rest of the morning was spent watching an extreme jet sled obstacle race. Donny stood to the side, listening to his four friends gossip and joke, while the rest of the surrounding fans cheered or shouted obscenities at the performers. Even in the middle of the crowd, he felt invisible. Especially when people kept jostling into him and stepping on his feet, only noticing him after the fact. Humiliation warmed his cheeks with a flush. _No one ever sees me_. One of the reasons he joined the football team to begin with was so people would notice him, so he wouldn't keep feeling like he was slowly fading away into non-existence.

He stumbled into Denver when a little girl's sno-cone dropped on his shoe.

"Dude," Denver cried out, pounding Donny on the back. "Where you been? Visiting the ole ball-n-chain?"

"Um, Den, I've been right here the whole time."

Kasey and the girls laughed. "Sure you have." Denver winked at the girls as he drawled out his response. "Dude, you missed Steve Storis's killer moves! That's okay. Crash Martin is up next. Have you seen the her skinsuit?"

"Or what little of a skinsuit she's actually wearing," Kasey chimed in. Then yiped when Stacey whacked him. "Ow! That hurt!"

"Excuse me, _who_ exactly are you taking to spring formal?" Stacey demanded, eyes flashing.

Donny carefully backed away from the line of fire, hoping Paulette and Stacey wouldn't pull him into the argument. Ice tingled a warning down his spine. He shivered and tripped over someone behind him. Fortunately, the rally grounds were well covered in straw. The man reached down, lifting Donny back to his feet with a well-manicured hand.

"Um, thanks." Donny got to his feet, dusting off his jacket with his free hand.

"Are you all right, Little Badger?"

Donny started in surprise, forgetting about his letter jacket. Impeccably dressed in a designer black business suit, the man had blue eyes, a white goatee, longish white hair pulled back in a ponytail and seemed familiar. Yet how could he know someone he'd never seen before, never met. Confused, Donny said the only intelligent thing that came to mind.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you are all right."

"Yeah. Fine."

The man smiled, his eyes glinting with an odd light. "Good. I'm glad. Have a fun day, Son."

Donny recoiled. _I hate it when people say that to me!_ "You're not my dad," he muttered resentfully.

Now the man laughed, an almost evil sounding cackle. "No, I'm not. Sorry about that. Won't happen again, I promise. By the by, Young Man, you really should pay better attention to what's going on around you."

"Meaning?"

"It's such a wonderfully warm spring day. Why are you so cold?" The man pointed in the air.

Donny shuddered, his breath catching in his chest when he realized he could see it hanging like mist in front of him. The temperature in his immediate vicinity had definitely dropped, a sure sign his girlfriend was around. When Donny glanced around, however, he didn't see Ember and the man had vanished into the crowd.

Donny's confusion only mounted when he noticed a little green bulldog pup trotting across the jet sled obstacle course, ignoring such thing as the flaming-circles-o-death and the crunching-mandibles-o-fury. Donny couldn't decide which was more absurd; the idea someone would dye a their pup green or the fact that said puppy didn't even flinch when Crash Martin came within inches of flattening it.

Crash dived her jet sled under and around a field of laser lattice, not even noticing the animal. The audience oohed and aahed in appreciation of her maneuvers, oblivious to brightly colored canine. Donny frowned as the puppy made its way off the course, trotted happily between Kasey's feet and off into the crowd.

And during it all, Donny shivered and his breath misted in the air. _What's wrong with me?_ He ran his fingers through his bangs, feeling chilly sweat on his forehead. His friends had turned their attention back to the exhibition and were chatting amongst themselves as if they didn't even see him. Donny swallowed, then made his decision. He slipped through the crowd without a word, heading for the nearest restroom.

And there was the pooch, heading for the pita stand.

Another shiver hit him, violently. Donny closed his eyes, feeling them burn behind his lids, and swayed a bit off balance. Two hands grabbed his arms, one on either side. When Donny opened his eyes, Friar Tuck and Mara were holding him upright.

"Dude, are you okay?" Tuck asked.

Mara frowned up at him. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

Donny blinked, felt the burning dissolve as he did. "Nothing," he shrugged the pair off. "I…I'm fine."

"Well excuse us for being worried!" Tuck groused.

"DeFranco, you look really ill. Maybe you should go to the doctor."

Mara's concern shocked him. _A freak goth worried about a brainless football jock? No way. I _must_ be imagining things._

A second later, he was glad to be imagining things because the green puppy walked out of the pita stand with gyro meat in its mouth. And it didn't come out via the door or over the window.

"Oh. My. God," Tuck whispered.

Mara stepped away from Donny, looking at the puppy the two boys were staring at and completely misunderstanding the situation. "No! That is so cruel! Who is horrible enough to paint their pet's fur that way?"

Tuck shook his head. "Uh, Mara, I think I just saw that dog walk through a wall."

The goth girl sputtered, choking on a laugh. "Tuck, you've had too many chili-cheese fries today. Dogs can't walk through solid objects."

Donny stood silent, ignored once more. The puppy approached him, chewing on its prize. The closer it got, the colder the chills up his spine were. Donny panted, on the verge of hyperventilating. The space in front of him clouded blue with moisture and the puppy scampered past.

_It must belong to someone,_ Donny thought. _It has a collar._

The teen jock turned automatically and started to jog after the animal. He wasn't quite sure why, except for a strong gut feeling telling him the dog was somehow connected to his girlfriend. The puppy glanced back over its shoulder, "woofed" pleasantly, and picked up its pace. Donny followed after, trying to chase the animal down.

"Hey, wait up!" Mara's voice called.

------------

Tuck growled as he tried desperately to keep up with his best friend. This was not how he planned to spend his day, chasing down someone's lost pet and a jock with muscle spasm issues. Still, the guy did help him out earlier in the morning. So Tuck bit back his own impatience and followed the two other kids to the "backstage" area of the fairgrounds. The barns, cattle stalls and ancient dirt horse track were deserted.

The trio of teens ran around permanent light towers, jumped a chain link fence and threaded scaffolding trying to keep up with their target. When the mutt ran into one of the older structures, Tuck groaned aloud. The doors were chained shut and big "Keep Out" signs were posted all around. Despite this, the jock didn't give up. Like a fiend possessed, Donny DeFranco rattled the doors, trying to get entry to the decrepit wooden building.

"Dude," Tuck called out, "give it up. It's just a dog."

"A dog that can walk through walls," Mara breathed in shock.

Vindicated, Tuck puffed out his chest. "Told ya."

Donny slammed his flat palm against the barn doors in frustration. "Open up!" he shouted at the wood.

_The guy has issues_, Tuck decided. _Serious mental ones._

It didn't surprise him. Most athletes traded smarts for brawn and Mara had been right with her earlier crack about football players getting hit in the head too often. Experiences like that could scramble whatever common sense a person had. Apparently DeFranco just had a different reaction to voluntary physical abuse than his friends did.

Tuck dialed up the fairground plans on his wrist comp, displaying them on a 3D heads up projection while the jock prowled around the outskirts of the building looking for entry. "That's the only way in, Dude. Unless you can go through solid objects too."

Donny shot glare in Tuck's direction and for a brief nano-second, the techno-geek thought the jock's eyes had turned green. But when Tuck checked again, he saw only blue as Donny turned away.

Mara stepped closer to Tuck, whispering, "Is it just me, or did his eyes just glow?"

"You saw it too?"

"Second time," she confirmed softly. "And I don't think he knows it."

By this time, DeFranco was at the back corner of the building, prying at the wallboards with a piece of pipe he picked off the ground. Tuck watched in fascination as the scrawny football player vandalized public property. "Okay, weird _and_ obsessive. Why are the popular kids called 'quirky' when they get that way but we're called freaks?"

"Some questions have no answers, Tuck."

A crack reverberated loudly as DeFranco peeled away the first piece of wood. He tossed it back, preparing to go for the second piece, when the dog shot out of the building. The stupid mutt skidded to a stop beside the board, barking loudly.

The jock dropped the pipe. "Here, Pooch."

Hating himself, but knowing he was going to help DeFranco anyway, Tuck killed his HUD and scooched towards the canine's other side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mara doing the same. How surrounding the dog on three sides could help, the techno-geek didn't know. Still, if they could capture the mutt… _I wonder how much the zoo would pay for it?_

The dog panted playfully, woofing once again. The three teens surrounded it, getting closer and closer. Just as they lunged, the dog snapped the board up in its tiny little jaws—the wood was at least three times as long as the mutt—spun around and ran for the scaffolding.

Donny, Mara and Tuck slammed into each other, bouncing and slamming into the ground.

"I'm gonna choke that beast!" Tuck snarled.

Mara glared laser scalpels at him.

Donny jumped to his feet, shaking his head as if to clear it, and yelled, "Catch that dog!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes: First, thank you all for the reviews. I appreciate them even though I don't have the time to personally respond. The review monster is still hungry, though, and would like to see more._

_A few things... More of Vlad is coming, I promise, in the next chapter. And yes, there are people missing, but they aren't going to show up immediately. There are some things that need to happen first._

_Just a warning, this short chapter has some much needed character development and not quite as much action. Things will pick up again, but Friar Tuck insisted on having a moment, so I obliged him. Let me know what you think._

_In the meantime, if you haven't checked out my DP one-shots or "Do Overs", please do. I'd be interested in hearing what you think of them. _

-------------------------

Donny DeFranco hadn't had this much fun in years.

He enjoyed football immensely, but the game was rigid, structured, full of does and don'ts. Running around the fairgrounds, though, chasing after the dog, was completely different. No whistles, no bizarre plays to confuse the opposition, no other players to keep track of. This was just plain vanilla running.

His expensive brand name sneakers were ruined now. First the sno-cone incident left syrup stains over the toes, now the mud was creeping in every time he hit a puddle left over from last night's rain storm. He couldn't bring himself to care, though. Playing, unencumbered by pads and helmet with no one yelling at him to stop, gave Donny a sense of freedom he had never felt before.

It was almost as if he could fly.

Donny laughed. He couldn't help himself. Every few moments, the tiny little pup would stop and growl cheerfully, its stubby tail wagging away. The board hung from its jaws like a giant chew toy, the only thing Donny could get close to. And when Donny got close enough to make a grab for the board, the puppy took off in a completely different direction.

Occasionally, the dog would allow Mara or Tuck to approach it, but the end result was the same. As soon as any of the teens got close, puppy would run a few feet away then wait for the humans to chase it.

Donny laughed again. He dodged under the scaffolding and almost crashed into Tuck. The techno-geek snarled.

"Dude! Watch where you're going."

"Sorry, Tuck." Donny gave the other boy a friendly slap on the shoulder. "I'll try to be more careful."

Tuck ducked his head in confusion. "Yeah, well, you'd better."

Donny stopped for a moment, trying to decipher the comment. "Have I done something to offend you?"

The immediate reaction was a look so cold, Donny swore the other teen had ice for eyeballs. Then resignation took over and Tuck shook his head while rubbing the back of his neck. "No. _You_ haven't done anything wrong."

Just like that, fun time was over and Donny DeFranco remembered what these two believed him to be. He hesitated over whether to make a snide remark or not. _Not worth it_, he told himself as he turned away.

"Time to call home," his i-Bug beeped.

"Delete reminder," he instructed with a heavy sigh, taking the long route back to rally central.

"Reminder deleted," the phone cheerfully chirped.

Scaffolding towered above Donny, five stores of pipes, walkboards and ladders constructed to hold up the horse track's deteriorating stadium seating. Sunlight streamed brightly between the cracks, gleaming with the promise of better things to come. He knew better to believe it. Spring always lied. The only things that came later were the hot weather and bad storms of summer which promptly led into autumn's death-of-all-things.

"Tuck," Mara's voice called, "What happened? What's wrong?"

If Tuck answered, Donny didn't hear it. He did hear a piece of wood hit the ground. Even as he walked away from the game, the dog trotted towards him, board forgotten. "Yip."

"Second reminder," the i-Bug beeped again. "Time to call home."

Resisting the urge to bang his head against the nearest scaffold, Donny stopped and leaned forward into it. "Delete reminder. Dial home."

A series of clicks filled one ear as footsteps splashed up behind him. He could practically feel Mara and Tuck breathing down his neck.

"Donny? You there, Son?" his father's voice crackled over the tiny receiver. The i-Bug contained the best digital solid state technology available. Anyone could talk on these things from anywhere on the planet with no reception problems and John DeFranco managed to be the one person in the universe who still couldn't make his work properly.

"Yes, Sir."

"What time is it?"

Donny didn't bother glancing at his watch. Dad had programmed the reminders to go off every four hours when the younger DeFranco wasn't in the house. "One o'clock."

John harrumphed. "You have homework to do."

"Yes, Sir." No use arguing. His father had probably snooped in his book bag the moment he left for the rally.

"Did you see that girl?"

"Dad!"

"Did you see her or not?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Time to come home. I've been called out on a job." The connection clicked off.

"Yes, Sir," Donny replied in monotone to empty air. "What ever you say, Sir."

The dog bumped up against Donny's leg, whining as if it knew something was wrong. Donny reached down, absently scratching the pooch behind the ears when his fingers caught on the collar's tag.

_I knew it! He does belong to Ember._

Most animal licenses were short rectangles, just big enough to contain an RFID and a holoprojector with the contact details of the pet's vet. In the modern age of private information paranoia, all roaming pets were returned to their vets who in turn contacted the owners. This tag was mostly round, straight along one edge, embossed on the front and flat on the back. There was no RFID embedded and no signs of a holoprojector. Instead, the flat side had writing engraved on it and the front side was shaped into the letter 'D' surrounding a fancy 'P'. The center of the 'P' contained four stylized symbols in a line.

Donny frowned, puzzling over the four symbols until Mara leaned over his shoulder, touching the tag with her forefinger.

"I think it says 'Cujo'," she said.

"Rarwf!" the puppy agreed.

"Cujo?" Tuck came around the other side of the dog. "What kind of name is that for tiny little guy like this?"

His good mood broken, Donny couldn't bring himself to smile. "It could be a girl, you know."

Tuck smirked and pointed. "Look between the legs. Cujo's a he."

"Oh."

Mara flipped tag over, her fingers brushing against Donny's as she did so. She still leaned over his shoulder, her breath warm in his ear as she silently tried to decipher the engraved writing.

_You have a girlfriend, DeFranco,_ he admonished himself before making his own attempt to read the message. "Wait a sec... That can't be right."

"What can't be right?" Tuck asked.

"It says, 'Return to Phantom if found...OR ELSE'."

Mara blinked. "Okay. This is officially the weirdest dog license I've ever seen."

"XCopy that," Donny agreed. "I wonder what kind of veterinary clinic calls itself Phantom."

"Maybe it's a city," Tuck offered, pulling an atlas up on his wristcomp.

"Nooooo," Mara said slowly. "Look at the symbol on the front. Doesn't it seem familiar?"

"Looks like something you'd see in a museum or a history class," Tuck commented, still searching his atlas.

Donny gave Cujo another scratch behind the ears, then got back to his feet. "You guys mind returning him? The clinic should have his owner on record."

"Yo...You're not staying?"

Donny's heart fluttered at concern in Mara's voice. Tuck's expression was carefully blank, but his body language said he was tense. Donny shook his head. "Can't. Gotta go home. Homework and all that."

"Dude," Tucker scrunched his features into a frown. "It's Saturday. Everyone gets Saturday off."

"I'm not everybody." A bitter edge crept into Donny's voice despite his best attempts to be bland. Usually, no one ever noticed. The other A-Listers were always too wrapped up in their own concerns and took such comments at face value. Tuck and Mara noticed, though, their eyes narrowing sharply as soon as words left Donny's lips. He slapped his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing hard to keep a flush from painting his face red with embarrassment. These two so-called losers were a lot sharper than he expected.

"Um, I gotta go." With those final words, Donny DeFranco turned on his heels and fled.

-----------------

Tuck winced as Mara's fist pounded into his upper arm. "What did you say to him?" she demanded.

"Nothing!"

His best friend glared at him the way only a goth could, death and the promise of eternal agony in her eyes. "You said something. He was laughing, Tuck. I've never heard DeFranco laugh before. And then you said something and he looked like you punched him in the gut. Spill it!"

Tuck bit his lip, shaking his head. _DeFranco's mood isn't my fault,_ he told himself, recognizing the lie in his words.

Where did the jerk-jock get off acting like they were friends, anyway? First the dude rescued Tuck and his comp this morning, then apologized all nice-n-polite when he nearly ran Tuck down, even giving Tuck the best friend's slap-on-the-back routine. It wasn't fair! DeFranco's attitude messed with the system, broke all the rules and destroyed the status quo. How was anyone to know their place in the social structure if the jock kept crossing lines like that?

Yet, Tuck had to admit he missed having a guy friend. Mara was great, his best friend in the whole wide world whom he trusted with a lot of his secrets. But she was a _girl_ and there was just some stuff boys did not talk about with girls. DeFranco, on the other hand, might actually understand the guy stuff. Tuck could see himself and the jock being close friends, which only infuriated him more. Popular kids did this routine all the time, pretended to be nice to a loser, learn the loser's most carefully guarded secret, then outing said secret to the entire school for their own amusement. So, when Donny asked if he had offended Tuck, the techno-geek had given the only response he could.

The overwhelming hurt in DeFranco's eyes was not the expected response. Tuck waited for the insults and beatings to start. Instead, the jock turned away, shoulders slumped in defeat.

_I didn't do anything_, Tuck mentally yelled at his conscience.

_That's the problem,_ his conscience argued back. _You didn't even give him a chance._

Then DeFranco called home and defeat became complete, exhausted resignation. The kind of resignation Tuck felt when Denver and Kasey bullied him. The same expression on every loser's face at school when cornered by the A-Listers. Which only confused Tuck further. Since when did popular kids feel the same emotions as the rest of the universe?

The mutt managed to perk DeFranco up, though, if only for a moment. Then Tuck opened his mouth again and the jock recoiled.

_"I'm not everybody."_

Most people would hear only the words and assign an aura of arrogance and self-importance to the speaker. Tuck, however, heard the sour self-hatred behind the voice. He used that tone quite often

himself when he was alone and depressed. The idea DeFranco hated his life surprised Tuck.

Mara jabbed him in the ribs. "Tuck, are you listening to me?"

The techno-geek ignored her question, reaching to scratch the mutt's ears and encountering nothing. Tuck jumped up, looking around frantically, but the little green bulldog was gone. "Whoops."

Mara stretched as she also rose. "So much for finding out more about the dog. I wanted to question its owner about the whole green fur and solid objects thing."

Tuck killed the atlas. "Maybe we imagined the whole thing?"

Mara's eyes met his and Tuck blanched. "Or maybe not," he amended.

She sighed, curling the ends of her hair around one of her fingers. "We need to find out what that symbol was, the one on the front of the tag."

"Why? The mutt's gone."

Mara stamped her foot on the ground. "Don't be an idiot. First, by definition mutts are multi-breed dogs. That puppy was obviously full-blooded bulldog. Secondly, we might run into it again. Lastly, I want to know how it managed the wall trick. If we figure out the symbol, we'll know which clinic to go to. You can hack their records, find the owner and we can get some answers."

"You're going to be obsessing over this until we have an explanation, aren't you? Even if we don't see the dog again."

Mara smirked in response.

Tuck sighed. He loved his best friend, he really did, despite the overly zealous curiosity which always, always, always got him into trouble. "Fine. Let's blow this popsicle stand and find a quiet place to do some research."

She smirked again, leading the way towards the exit. Tuck had to get in one last word, though.

"Bulldog or not, Cujo's still a mutt."

Mara smacked him on the arm.


End file.
